Oceans Page 5

  Website: theprose.com/LyndseyEH

  On the Hunt

  by Susanne Thomas

  T’eri felt the water swell beneath her. The ebb and flow of the ocean lifted her and then dropped her. She bobbed up and down with all the other junk on the water’s surface.

  A sound alerted her to a motion under the surface. Sharks were on the hunt, circling a nearby seal colony. T’eri shook herself, and adrenaline surged through her body. She could smell the tang of the sharks below.

  T’eri fought through the waves of the ocean and smiled, exposing her sharp, razored teeth. She’d have to be fast to catch her dinner. She loved shark meat.

  SUSANNE THOMAS reads, writes, parents, and teaches from the windy west in Wyoming. She’s an MFA graduate of the University of Arkansas at Monticello Creative Writing Program and she loves fantasy, science fiction, speculative fiction, poetry, children’s books, science, coffee, and puns.

  Website: www.themightierpenn.com

  Ghostly Galleon

  by Zoey Xolton

  The clouds parted, and the moon shone down upon the sea, illuminating the pale sails of the Caleuche. Children upon the island of Chiloé watched in awe from the beach as the galleon sailed by.

  Warm light and music spilled into the night, its deck full to bursting with dancing, drinking, song and laughter.

  The legend of the Caleuche was well-known in South America. It was a living, sentient entity that rescued the drowned and lost at sea—so that they might live again, aboard.

  The Caleuche disappeared into the darkness...and the children took comfort, knowing they had family there.

  Zoey Xolton is an Australian Speculative Fiction writer, primarily of Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Romance and Horror. She is also a proud mother of two and is married to her soul mate. Outside of her family, writing is her greatest passion. She is especially fond of short fiction and is working on releasing her own themed collections in future.

  Website: www.zoeyxolton.com

  Blood on the Sea Ice

  by Carole de Monclin

  We swim from one empty chunk of drifting ice to the next.

  I’ve spent days on the hunt for seals. My cub is starving.

  In the distance, I glimpse a shape emerging. Much bigger than me. A male.

  Our eyes meet across the white expanse. His hunger and desperation mirror my own.

  He growls, sending my heart into a frenzy.

  Alone, I’d outrun him, but right now, fighting’s my only hope.

  His formidable claws slash out. I tumble away, helpless.

  He pounces, and his jaw closes over my baby’s neck.

  I howl my despair as red sprays on the ice.

  CAROLE DE MONCLIN travels both the real world and imaginary ones. She’s lived in France, Australia, and the USA; visited 25+ countries; and explored Mars, Ceres, and many distant planets. She writes to invite people on a journey. Her stories can be found in The Arcanist, The Deep Space Anthology, and every volume of the Dark Drabbles series.

  Website: CaroledeMonclin.com

  Twitter: @CaroledeMonclin

  Wreckage

  by Maxine Churchman

  Geoff winked and blew Vicky a kiss before falling backwards off the boat to follow his dive buddy, Ron.

  The clear waters enveloped him, and the only sound came from his breathing apparatus. Ron was already entering the wreck through a hatch.

  As Geoff followed, a blow to the back of his head dislodged his mouthpiece and stunned him momentarily. Before he could retrieve the mouthpiece, Ron kicked him hard in his stomach making him lose the last breath he held. Another blow and his last thought before blacking out was; I guess Ron knows I’ve been shagging his wife.

  Maxine Churchman lives in Essex UK and has recently started writing poetry and short stories to share. Her interests include learning to improve her writing, reading, knitting, walking and teaching yoga. She is also planning a novel.

  Fog Between Worlds

  by Matthew M. Montelione

  Catherine relaxed on the beach all morning, listening to her family bicker about what to do for the day. Bored, she got up. “I’m taking the kayak out.”

  “Don’t go too far, Cathy,” her father said.

  Catherine smiled as her oars cut through the ocean, a strong breeze cooling her hot face.

  Suddenly, thick fog encircled her. She panicked, unsure what to do. She breathed a sigh of relief as the fog dissipated. Weird.

  Her heart dropped. Two suns hovered above her in a pink sky. It was unbearably hot.

  Catherine screamed, bobbing on the ocean in a strange world.

  MATTHEW M. MONTELIONE is a horror writer born and raised on Long Island in New York. His work has been published in many titles, including MONSTERS: A Horror Microfiction Anthology, Mother Ghost’s Grimm, and Quoth the Raven: A Contemporary Reimagining of the Works of Edgar Allan Poe. Matthew lives with his wife in New York.

  Website: maybeevils.com

  Facebook: maybeevils

  The Seasteaders

  by Daniel Purcell

  The boy had sidled through the putrid and polluted waters on his kayak, body scarcely clothed. His flooded city had become sweltering, uninhabitable. The world had ended, but not for everyone. The others were relics in the opaque waters, along with their nation’s rusted vessels. They’d been employed and then terminated over time.

  He eventually scoped them out: the Seasteaders. He drifted towards the ocean metropolis. Above, it looked like a vast butterfly, metallic and viridescent. The bustling aqua-city mesmerised; so pristine. Yet, before the sunset, it was washed in crimson.

  Then the pods emerged from the bio-reefs.

  DANIEL PURCELL lives with his girlfriend in Glasgow, Scotland. He studied English at the University of Liverpool—where he was born—and has travelled extensively around the world, living in America for six months along the way. He has upcoming short-fiction being—or already—published with Farther Stars Than These, two Black Hare Press anthologies (Dark Drabbles: ‘Oceans’ and ‘Ancients’), 101 Words, a Rogue Planet Press anthology (‘Unexpected Turbulence,’ in the Halloween 2020 edition) and Eerie River Publishing (The Beast in the Black Isle in ‘It Calls From the Forest: Volume 2’).

  Nix in Line

  by Peter J. Foote

  The gorgeous woman peers around the seaweed-covered boulder and beckons young Lewis.

  “Hi, are you in our tour group? I would have noticed you,” Lewis says.

  In reply, the woman wets her lips and winks before withdrawing behind the boulder.

  Lewis grins and chases after her, only to discover the woman draped in nothing but her long tresses. She motions for a kiss. When her tongue slides into his mouth, she pours the ocean into him.

  Once the male has stopped thrashing and is still in death, the Nix water spirit returns to the boulder, hunting for her next victim.

  PETER J. FOOTE is a bestselling speculative fiction writer from Nova Scotia. Outside of writing, he runs a used bookstore specialising in fantasy & sci-fi, cosplays, and alternates between red wine and coffee as the mood demands. His short stories can be found in both print and in ebook form, with his story “Sea Monkeys” winning the inaugural “Engen Books/Kit Sora, Flash Fiction/Flash Photography” contest in March of 2018. As the founder of the group “Genre Writers of Atlantic Canada”, Peter believes that the writing community is stronger when it works together.

  Twitter: @PeterJFoote1

  Website: peterjfooteauthor.wordpress.com

  Deep

  by Lynne Lumsden Green

  The highwaters keep sending me gifts; strange metal tubes full of delicious morsels of food. I receive their gifts with pleasure, seeing them as a subtle compliment to my Queenship of The Deep. It is a charming wooing for my favours.

  I’ve sent them several messages through the water, to create elegant sculptures of enormous waves. They responded with a confetti of assorted edibles, of both vegetables and animals, along with a strang
e mixture of bits from the overworld.

  I have accepted their invitation. When I get to the surface, I am sure I will find everything in exquisite taste.

  LYNNE LUMSDEN GREEN is enjoying the aging process, contrary to all expectations. She completed a Bachelors’ Degree in Science, and after her midlife crisis went back and completed a B.A. in Creative Writing. She writes both fiction and nonfiction and owns more books than bookshelves.

  Flotsam

  by Evan Baughfman

  Everyone was gone but me.

  Drowned.

  Captain suspected someone hadn’t wanted our mysterious cargo to reach mainland. He said a spy had been on board, lighting a fire below deck.

  Thankfully, the perpetrator went down with the ship.

  I floated away from the wreckage, clinging to a hunk of wood that wouldn’t hold me for long.

  In the moonlight, I found a larger piece adrift. Swam for it.

  A crate?

  I held fast to its side.

  A casket...?

  Its lid threw open. Claws yanked me upward.

  The cargo inside had red eyes, fangs, a pale complexion.

  A thirst for blood.

  EVAN BAUGHFMAN works in a very scary place: a middle school! He writes all genres, but horror is where he’s most comfortable. Much of his writing success has been as a playwright. He’s had many different plays produced across the globe. Heuer Publishing has published his Poe adaptation, “A Taste of Amontillado”. Additionally, Evan has adapted a number of his short stories into screenplays, of which “The Emaciated Man” and “The Creaky Door” have won awards in various film festival competitions. Evan’s “Just Plants” was recently published in Soteira Press’s horror anthology, The Monsters We Forgot - Volume 1.

  Myst

  by T.E. Dziadura

  The fog crept up the shore, its tendrils wrapping around her legs. Pain wracked her body, dropping her to her knees. Her back arched, a scream caught in her throat and her fingers dug deep into the sand.

  Through the pain, she felt a tug. Movement. Her skirt pulled above her waist as she was dragged towards the cold Atlantic. Waves washed over her.

  She floated, wrapped in a wreath of blue and white sparkles of electricity that danced over her form. The watery sun receded as she sank beneath the waves.

  T.E. DZIADURA is a bestselling speculative fiction writer from Newfoundland, Canada, with a focus on science-fiction, horror and fantasy. Her short story “Beyond No Man’s Land” can be found in Chillers from the Rock and “Flight 520 to London” in Flights from the Rock. Her writing is inspired by her love of science and history, and the sense of wonder they can inspire. You can follow her writing, and adventures with her husband, kids, cats and rescue beagles on social media or her weekly blog.

  Sea Glass Souls

  by Jasmine Jarvis

  Along the beach they wash up—little pieces of iridescent sea glass of greens, blues, pinks, and opaque. Within each piece of glass is the soul of a poor and unfortunate sailor who had fallen for a siren’s wicked deceit. The siren takes the soul and encases it in sea glass. Sometimes a storm so violent will strike, the undercurrent of the ocean steals the siren’s collection of souls, bringing them to shore where I will collect as many as possible before I set sail.

  For you see, sirens cannot harm you if you too hold the Sea Glass Souls.

  JASMINE JARVIS is a teller of tales and scribbler of scribbles. She lives in Brisbane, Australia with her husband Michael, their two children, Tilly and Mish; Ripley, their German Shepherd, and indoor fat cat, Dwight K. Shrute.

  Eternal

  by Kaitlyn Arnett

  Most people called them lost. Soldiers gone to waste in a war that never should have been fought, dragged into the deep sea only to be forever taken by it.

  Those people couldn’t have been more wrong.

  Their bodies never died, never put to rest, nor sentenced to decay.

  They worked effortlessly because tiring was no longer an option, their submarine carrying them all across the ocean. It had been years, maybe even decades, since they had seen the light of day, but most of them hardly noticed.

  For they were still on patrol, and this was their eternal oath.

  KAITLYN ARNETT is a teen author who has been writing for five years. She focuses on the fantasy and thriller genres, specifically drabbles and short stories.

  Rebirth

  by Kimberly Rei

  The cliff has called to me for as long as I can remember. As a child, it taunted hours; both waking and sleeping. Mother forbade playing near the edge, but she didn’t need to. I was too afraid of the endless water below.

  I am still afraid, as I stand at the rocky lip, staring down. But it is time. And so I leap, arms like wings.

  As the ocean embraces me in her loving grip, I am reborn. Webbing links fingers, gills bring air. My eyes glow. My jaw unhinges to accommodate rows of razor fangs.

  I am home.

  KIMBERLY REI has been writing for as long as she can remember. At five years old, her parents gifted her with a set of Children’s Classics that she had no hope of reading. Yet. The potential alone sparked a love of words that has never wavered. Kim has taught writing workshops and edited novels for Authors You May Recognize. She has published several short stories and now can’t stop chasing paper dragons. She currently lives in Tampa Bay, Florida with her wife and an abundance of gorgeous beaches to explore.

  Bubbling Up

  by Dawn Knox

  The stream of silver bubbles pouring from my mouth descend to the depths of the ocean.

  But that’s not possible.

  Bubbles always rise to the surface.

  For an instant, I’m confused; doubting myself.

  But realisation comes quickly. I’m disorientated in the water, and I’m not moving upwards towards the light, but down, down into the inky blackness.

  When my diving buddy took my hand, I assumed he was saving me. But he’s dragging me deeper and deeper, with hateful determination burning in his eyes.

  My silent scream is captured in the silver bubbles which surge up towards the distant surface.

  DAWN KNOX enjoys writing in different genres and has had romances, speculative fiction, sci-fi, humorous and women’s fiction published in magazines, anthologies and books. She’s also had two plays about World War One performed internationally. Her current work in progress is a story set in Bletchley Park during World War Two.

  Website: dawnknox.com

  Twitter: SunriseCalls

  Silence is the Sound of Freedom

  by Terri A. Arnold

  I sit down on the edge of the dock with my pant legs rolled up and sandals off. Putting my legs in the cold ocean water and fluttering my feet, I let go of all the pent up stress and anger.

  So this is what freedom feels like. What it smells like, sounds like.

  It’s so peaceful; no husband to nag me, no kids to pester me, no one to worry about but myself. Oh, the things I’ll be able to do!

  With a contemplative gaze, I take in the floating bodies of my husband and two children, I’m free.

  TERRI A. ARNOLD is an avid reader turned writer from a small town in Nova Scotia, who has spent her life reading and wishing she was writing. Although she has written a lot in those years, she has only recently begun to submit pieces for publication. With ongoing encouragement from family and writing challenges with friends, Arnold felt the urge to try her hand at publishing.

  The isle of carcasses

  by E.L. Giles

  The old man’s eyes were fatigued from gazing at the horizon. No land appeared before him, only a floating isle of carcasses. He let his heavy body fall back, caring neither about the absence of wind nor if his patched-up pirogue was drifting north or south.

  Nothing, thought the dying old man. Nothing remains but the putrescent essences of the decaying great whales and the mighty albatrosses.

  Over him, reigned a stoic silence. The sea was flat and oily and p
oisonous, the pale sun cold. His bag empty, the old man was to join the grotesque congregation of decaying flesh.

  E.L. GILES is a dreamer, passionate about art, a restless worker and a bit of a weird human. He started his artistic journey as a music composer until the need to put his thoughts and stories down on paper grew too strong for him to resist it any longer. He lives in the French Province of Quebec, Canada, with his girlfriend and two boys.

  Facebook: elgilesauthor

  Website: www.elgilesauthor.com

  Lover Astray

  by Ximena Escobar

  A hot breath on the glass, and she saw the cracks extend over her reflection. She saw the waves too, coming for her; breaking, lashing with salt and sand and coldness, everything in their wake. The mirror shattered onto the squeaking floorboards, whining like broken dogs as the tide constricted and rocked the vessel.